How We Got Here
by Evie1989
Summary: Tom mulls over things as he makes a pregnant Sam breakfast in bed one morning. ONESHOT. (This is part of what I'm calling my 'Sophie universe'. if you've read my other fic Sophie this will make more sense but this can also be read as a standalone because it's not chronological order.)


**Sooo, I couldn't sleep and this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. This will make slightly more sense if you've read 'Sophie' but it just about works as a standalone fic I think. Hope you enjoy it and I'd love to hear what you think in a review :)**

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Tom opened his eyes to find himself once again with the majority of Sam's hair in his face. Trying not to wake her, he extricated his arm from underneath her sleeping form and winced as the movement awakened muscles that had long since been asleep. He thought back to the evening 2 weeks ago when Sam had announced she was no longer comfortable sleeping cuddled into him with her head on his chest and instead wanted to be the 'little spoon'. Tom had laughed and made a joke about her not being little for much longer but it had just earned him a slap on the arm and an indignant glare. And that night Tom had relented, knowing all too well that he would be spending the next 4 months or so waking up with a numb arm.

Sam didn't stir, and placing a fleeting kiss to the back of her head Tom glanced at the clock and got up. The last couple of months hadn't been easy for the both of them. Well, it was the three of them now. After Sam's tearful revelation that she was pregnant Tom had vowed to get off the diazepam once and for all and had registered himself at a rehabilitation centre near his parents' house in Cambridge as soon as he was able. Sam's first scan showed that she was already 12 weeks gone and it meant that Tom was away from Holby just as the worst of her pregnancy symptoms were kicking in. Constant morning sickness and back pain were things that Tom was not able to soothe over the telephone and Sam was particularly struggling with the effect of the pregnancy on her hormones. By his third week at the Freedom Centre his relationship with Sam had become so strained that after a particularly bad argument he'd driven back to Holby at 2am in the morning, certain that she was going to tell him it was over. He'd spent an hour begging her to open the door before she finally relented, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

_"Sam, I'm so sorry. I know this isn't the way this was supposed to be," Tom apologised after Sam finally opened the door. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked exhausted, "Please, I'm begging you, we can make this work," he pleaded._

_Sam tilted her head to the side slightly, regarding the man before her. The father of her child. "I miss you," she said simply, a tear rolling down her cheek, "I miss you and I needed you to be here," _

_"I miss you too," he cried, the past three weeks he had been no stranger to tears himself, "I want to be here, I want to do right by you and by our baby. That's why I need to get better. I made you a promise and I know it's hard right now but I have to finish this program. So please, please give me another chance," he begged._

_'Our baby'. That was the first time Sam had heard him refer to the child growing inside her as 'our baby'. Up until now it had been 'the baby'. And she knew deep down in her heart that she wasn't blameless in the situation, after all it was she who had given him the diazepam in the first place. She realised that she had mostly neglected to ask after Tom's welfare in their nightly phone calls, instead using them as a platform to air all of her woes and grievances. _

_"I'm finding this so difficult Tom," Sam admitted, her voice shaking with the weight of her tears, "and I was so angry with you for leaving me here to deal with this," she told the broken man in front of her, "but I get it now, you're doing this for __**us.**__ I've been so selfish, I'm sorry I never ask how you're doing, I'm sorry that I've made it so difficult," _

_Tom was looking at Sam, speechless as she continued to talk. He hadn't been expecting this; he had been prepared with excuses and apologies that he would never get to use, and as Sam stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him he realised he had missed her touch more than he realised._

_"I'm so sorry Tom," she said burying her head in his chest, "I'm so so sorry."_

They had spent the rest of that night curled up in bed, not wanting to miss a second of each other's' company and as Tom had left to drive back to Cambridge the next morning he felt a sense of calm that he hadn't when he had first left. He completed the remaining two weeks of the program and on his return to Holby, Sam had suggested they go out to celebrate at Alfredo's, his favourite Italian restaurant and during the main course Sam had tentatively asked him what he thought about moving in with her and Tom was sure he wouldn't have been able to keep the dopey grin off of his face if he had tried.

The past three weeks had presented both Sam and Tom with new challenges. His morning routine was more often than not, interrupted by Sam's ever present morning sickness and without realising it Sam had gotten so used to dealing with her unpleasant symptoms by herself that the first week he was there, any attempt by Tom to help or even offer comfort was often snapped at or brushed aside. They were also dealing with the problems that most couples faced when moving in together; toilet seat up or down? Who takes out the bins? And what's for dinner? But slowly and surely they had managed to get used to living together and dealing with the ever changing plethora of things that Sam was feeling as their baby continued to grow. Tom had playfully nicknamed Sam's expanding bump 'nugget' after coming home with McDonalds chicken nuggets for her for the 5th night running. The nickname had stuck; unlike the craving which was soon replaced with a vile combination of pickle and jam on brown seeded bread, and the first time he had caught Sam refer to her bump as 'nugget' she'd been cutely embarrassed at the situation, of course blaming Tom.

As they now approached the 20th week of Sam's pregnancy, things were really looking up. Her morning sickness had started to abate somewhat, though to Sam's annoyance, Zoe still had her confined to cubicles. They were no longer stepping on each other's toes; instead of a cold shoulder for leaving the toilet seat up, there would be a teasing note on the bathroom mirror reminding Tom not to forget again and Sam accepted Tom's offerings of back rubs, bubble baths and her favourite sandwiches. Mostly though they had managed to get back to how their relationship had been in the start, easy and exciting and fun. It had been a long hard couple of months; but they'd finally got there and Tom was looking forward to the future, he was excited to meet their baby and he was determined that things would go smoother from now on.

The whistling of the kettle roused Tom from his thoughts and pulled him back into the present. He'd prepared a tray with a pickle and jam sandwich, a bag of wotsits, a bag of dairy milk buttons and 2 cups for the tea he was about to make. He chuckled to himself as he eyed the array of food on the tray, knowing that the only reason Sam was allowing herself to eat such junk was because she was craving it like crazy, and they were the only things she really managed to keep down. After he had made the tea and finished his own slice of toast he made his way back up the stairs.

"Good morning Doctor Nicholls," Tom announced as he elbowed open the door to their bedroom. He knew she was awake because he had heard the toilet flushing. He found her sat up in the bed, attempting to comb her fingers through her messy hair.

"Why don't you just tie it back before bed? It'll be better for both of us," Tom said teasingly to which Sam just smirked and shrugged her shoulders. Tom placed the tray down on the bedside table, "if I don't end up having an emergency laparotomy to remove a ball of your hair from my stomach at some point this year I'll eat my hat,"

"If you eat a hat you'll probably end up needed one anyway so it's a lose-lose situation for you Doctor Kent," Sam teased back. Tom leant over to give her a kiss and she recoiled in mock horror, "you've been up all this time and you haven't even brushed your teeth Tom," she exclaimed, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"Neither have you!" Tom protested, but he relented and climbed into the bed next to her and reached for his tea.

"Well I don't have morning breath," Sam retorted, reaching for the sandwich and the wotsits.

"All you're eating is wotsits and pickle and you think you don't have morning breath?" Tom chuckled, which earned him a death glare from Sam.

She turned her attention back to the sandwich and Tom watched with fascinated horror as she opened the bag of wotsits, peeled apart the sandwich and started placing the bright orange puffs onto the side spread with pickle. She then picked up the bag of buttons she usually left until last and looked at them for a second before she opened the bag and proceeded to place the chocolate on top of the wotsits. Placing the other piece of bread in its rightful place Sam then proceeded to squash the entire thing down with the heel of her hand.

"Stop watching me," Sam warned as she meticulously made sure that all of the wotsits were crushed.

"I'm sorry," Tom apologised as Sam took a big bite of the sandwich, "but that is your vilest concoction yet,"

"You want to try some?" Sam asked, holding out the sandwich to Tom.

"No way, it's all yours," Tom grimaced, shaking his head, "you know at the scan next week?"

"Mmmhmm," Sam nodded, munching on the sandwich.

"Do you want to find out the sex?" Tom asked tentatively, "I mean, I'm good with whatever you want to do but just for logistics, and the nursery and…"

"Tom, even if we ask them not to tell us, you and I both know what to look for on a scan so yes, I think we'll come back from the scan knowing what we're having," Sam smiled. Tom was so endearing whenever he started talking about the baby and Sam's heart melted a bit more each time. She liked to blame it on her hormones but she knew it ran way deeper than that.

"That's if he's not crossing his legs," Tom joked.

"He?"

"Just a figure of speech, I don't mind either way," Tom smiled.

"Me neither," Sam replied, reaching for her tea cup.

"You'll be able to balance that mug on nugget soon," Tom quipped, glancing at Sam's rounded belly. She currently had a nice, neat little bump and she'd had more than enough of people telling her that she'd 'pop' soon. Sam Nicholls certainly wasn't looking forward to feeling like she was the size of a house.

"We need to stop calling her nugget or it'll stick after she's born and we'll have to explain that her father thought it would be a good idea to name her after a deep fried chicken product,"

"You do it too," Tom mused, "you just said 'she',"

"Well I'm not going to call her 'it' am I?" Sam said, settling back down into the bed to be closer to Tom, "have you thought of any names?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Erm, well I thought maybe we could name him after your father," Tom said, his voice deadly serious.

"If you think for a moment we are calling this baby Reginald you are completely…"

"Relax I was kidding," Tom said, holding his hands up in defeat, "I like Rory,"

"That's Doctor Who related, next," Sam said matter of factly.

"Jacob?" Tom tried again.

Sam screwed her nose up at the suggestion, "I dated a boy called Jacob in high school. He was a real piece of work,"

"Zach?"

Sam turned to face him and smiled, "I like Zach, Zachary Kent. It's nice,"

"How about you, have you thought of any?" Tom asked, knowing full well that Sam had indeed thought of rather more than a few. Just last night Sam had used the laptop and had forgotten to close down the browser after she was done. Curious, Tom had clicked on the tab called ' ' and had found Sam's saved list of 20 boys and 20 girls names.

"Well a few, not really though," Sam said, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Tom used his better judgement and didn't bring up the page, knowing that Sam would be embarrassed and that it would probably earn him a punch in the stomach.

"Well we've got plenty of time," Tom grinned, putting his arm around Sam's shoulder and pulling her closer, "With this rare day off together, what would you like to do?" he asked.

"I… oh…"

Tom felt Sam's entire body go rigid and she grabbed his hand tightly.

"Sam what is it?" he asked worriedly, "what's wrong?"

"Oh…"

"Sam, talk to me," Tom pleaded. Sam's brows were furrowed together but he wasn't sure if it was pain or confusion on her face. His question was answered seconds later when Sam broke into a beautiful, beaming smile.

"She's kicking, the baby's kicking Tom," Sam said breathlessly, overwhelmed by the feeling of her baby moving for the first time. If she'd been asked, she doubted she'd have been able to describe the sensation.

She placed Tom's hand on her belly and watched his face light up as he felt the baby kick, "that's our nugget!" he exclaimed, the excitement written all over his face. Seeing the utter joy on Sam's face in that moment, Tom knew that every single struggle had been worth it and that everything they had been through had led them up to the future he couldn't wait to start living.

"I love you Sam," Tom said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "I love you so much,"

"I love you too," Sam smiled, snuggling back down into Tom's arms, the plans for the day temporarily forgotten.

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**Thank you so much for reading, I'd really like to hear what you thought :)**


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